2. A personal relationship has hit the rocks. Do you...
Refuse to take responsibility and relax to the strains of a record.
Wince at the pun, as they've hit the rocks literally.
Curse their very existence and execute a campaign of retribution.
Flounce around with your big hairdo and dance raunchily around some mute extras to inspire jealousy.
Disappear into the past to think things over... And probably not understand.
Kill the person involved with a poker and bad sound effect. Wearing your evening dress.
Overdose the person in question and then gloat when they age hideously.

3. Your ambition in life is to...
Keep your secrets to yourself and wear lots of evening dresses.
Any life in particular?
Link your past [zilch] with your future [likewise]. Natch.
Singlehandedly support the sedation industry in the northern hemisphere while pursuing that special undead someone.
Get more sun.
Dance surreally on a nightly basis before... um... becoming a psychic. And insane.
Grow old gracefully.

4. If someone close to you dies, would you...
Not be particularly bothered until a gypsy curses you for... erm... not being particularly bothered.
Take some time to think it over. About 18 years.
Not understand.
Realise that it's your fault they are dead.
Take a vacation/dating excursion into the history books, using some dubious plan to change time as justification.
Feel guilty and howl while clutching your throat, croaking out woe between contrived gasps.
Remember them respectfully with a notch on your bedpost.

5. Your idea of chic is?
Skimpy, with a lacquered fringe the size of sombrero.
Evening gowns and a big, hard hairdo.
Satan's idea of the Sugar Plum Fairy.
Timeless.
Lime green and made of scratchy tweed.
A nice, modern... erm... Inverness cape.
Sleeveless and from Orhbach's.

6. If you had children...
They'd be sedated.
They'd be tearaways, staying out to the ungodly hour of 10pm while gyrating to bizarre royalty-free muzak.
They'd be dolls, tended to by a mad woman who looks like Peggy Bundy.
They'd live in a box and have a gestation period of about a week.
They'd have chromakey dreams about you and/or get attacked by giant bats on strings.
They'd all die or be cursed.
They'd probably understand more than you.

7. Your idea of fun is...
Telling suicide stories in the dark.
Wandering around in an ugly trenchcoat trying not to look vacant.
Esoteric sculpture, involving clay and old Barbie dolls, mainly.
Not suitable for a family site like this.
Listening to your very limited record collection and getting drunk.
Hypnotising people with a yo-yo.
Singlehandedly doing the housework in a 40-room mansion. In your evening gown.

8. Your nearest and dearest would be...
Determined to see that you shouldn't inherit.
Unseen.
Dead, with an unfeasible age gap.
Sedated and probably insane.
Siblings? You don't understand...
Square-jawed alcoholics with delusions of authority.
Slightly disturbed and the only person in the world to know what the hell removing a bleeder valve does.

9. Your ideal partner would be...
Buried in the basement. Probably beneath a heap of discarded evening gowns and hairspray cans.
Prone to temporal instability.
Capable of taking a hint.
A pretty decent marksman, unfortunately.
Disappointingly unreceptive to attempts at hypnotism or an amicable break-up.
Does it have to be just the one?
Dead.

10. If you could describe yourself in your own words, you would be...
Sex and hair-flip combined.
Regal, with a whiff of cheap hairspray.
Dead, until next week. Probably.
Stylish and not at all camp or diva-like. Ahem.
Enduring.
Unassuming, simple and inquisitive, though not always the brightest bead on the rosary.
Bizarrely irresistible, middle-aged sex magnet with a dodgy haircut.